Kingdom of Cages(167)

Obediently, Tam put one foot in front of the other. His city would take care of him. The city knew what was right. For now, at least, he did not have to struggle. He did not have to bring down the leaden weight of guilt onto his tired spirit. For now, all was clear. Aleph told him to walk, so he did.


Once she found her rhythm, Chena was able to keep walking at a decent clip. Nan Elle had made sure she had practiced traveling long distances on foot, and now Chena was grateful. She paused here and there to reapply her scent concealer, although she was certain she smelled so much like swamp rot there wasn’t a bug on the continent that could identify her as human.

Better to be safe.

In the pale light of false dawn, she found a bush of knobbly summer berries and she picked some, careful to make her predations random, so it would look like a bird had raided the place. She drank from a clean stream where it cascaded over rounded stones. She allowed herself an hour’s rest so that the sunlight could leach a little of the cold and exhaustion from her bones.

It was late morning when the trees opened up onto the grassland and she looked down a bluff and saw the distant blue glint of Lake Superior. Her shoulders sagged with relief. She’d made it this far. There were only a few miles of grass left, a walk in the hot sun, and when it was over, there would be Farin, and all the help she could need.

Chena drizzled the last of the concealer out of her vial. It was barely enough to cover her face and hands.

It’ll do. It’ll be enough. I’ve made it this far. I can make it.

Chena pulled her jacket hood down tight, tucked her pants legs into her socks to cover her skin as best she could, and stepped out into the sunlight.

Her second wind came to her as she picked her way down the bluff. Maybe it was just the feeling of really getting somewhere. Maybe it was the sensation of being warm again after being frozen cold for so long. The sun was just past its zenith in the clean blue sky, giving her a guide that could not be mistaken. The grass bowed and swayed above her head, hiding her from prying eyes that flew by.

I did it. I beat them. They never even laid a hand on me.

A couple of miles had passed behind her when a shadow shifted across the sun. Chena ducked on reflex. She shaded her eyes to see a raptor circling lazily in the sky. She let out a long breath, planting both hands on her knees and laughing at herself for being so nervous. When she quieted, she straightened up. As she did, she looked down, and she saw the ants.

There was no mistaking them. They had the red-brown bodies and the busy legs. They milled about on the ground, seeking.

Chena’s heart stopped dead in her chest. Where had the signs been? Why hadn’t the birds panicked? Why not the grazing animals? Had they come in trickles, not in an army this time? Or were the animals already gone? Had she seen any this morning? Damn it, damn it, she hadn’t even heard the birds singing in the morning and she hadn’t noticed, she’d been so full of herself.

They were waiting for her. The hothousers had known she would come this way and had sent their sentries out to wait for her.

And the only reason they hadn’t found her yet was that they hadn’t smelled her.

Yet.

Chena’s eyes drifted to the way ahead of her, hoping against hope that it was just one swarm, two at most. But it wasn’t. The ground was alive with insects. The whole way ahead was a carpet of them.

Chena’s mind started to scream. She pressed her hands hard against her ears as if to shut out a noise, but it really was to shut in the noise— all the panicked noise inside her head that might leak out and alert the insects. Any second now, they would swarm up her legs and inside her clothes and they would bite and bite until there was nothing left of her.

STOP IT! Chena screamed to herself. Stop it! You cannot give in. You cannot stop. They have not found you. They cannot smell you. All you have to do is keep walking and you’re safe. So, walk!

Fists clenched, teeth clenched, her whole body shaking as badly as it had in the coldest part of the night, Chena took a step forward. Then she took another, and another. The ground crunched under her feet as she stepped on dozens of the insects with each movement. Up ahead, the ground crawled.

Another step, another, and another. There was no break in the carpet of ants, or in the long grass around them. Chena shouldered her way through the forest of waving stalks, afraid to put her hand out. She saw the sun glint on red-brown bodies creeping up the grass stems, looking for some trace of her. It took all her strength not to bat at her camouflage jacket. Even if they were on her jacket, they couldn’t smell her. They didn’t know the difference between her and the waving grass. She just had to keep walking. That was all she had to do. Nothing had changed. She was safe behind the layers of potion and swamp muck.